Chapter Five: Reconnaissance
Vegeta stomped over to his bedside and pulled out the metal suitcase from underneath with a growl. Why did another's incompetence always lead to him having to do more work? This was why he preferred working alone over working with others. Everyone else always got in the way. He should have told Frieza that an entire team was unnecessary and he was all that was required to complete this assignment. Even Ginyu was going to start pushing his buttons the wrong way. When that damned Hunter returned with his head hung as low as the floor, Vegeta was going to have him taken to the torture rooms for his lack of competence.
He sighed as he put in the six-number combination for his metal box. They would come in handy once the operation commenced. If he managed to capture a single Angel, he could unquestionably find out what type of magic the others were using to conceal themselves from the Hunters. And then all he would have to do was hand over his captured to the other Hunters, and they would be able to handle a simple job such as the one that they had been assigned.
This was going to be fun. But first he had to wait for Ginyu to come back empty-handed. Then he would capture one. He would never admit it aloud, but he was a bit nervous. After all, these weren't just hired guns he was in charge of. These were supposedly second in line for the title of the best, him being the first. That was solid proof that they weren't playing a game when they hunted. The Angels really were hiding, and it was probably by means of something he had never encountered before. This is where his unique skills would come in handy.
Vegeta opened the case when the metal lid popped up. He looked around for something simple. He didn't want to be carrying around a lot of weight if he was going to be searching through the woods throughout all of tomorrow. And weight was never a helpful thing when chasing after an Angel. They were known for being light on their feet, if anything.
He looked over a pair of silver handcuffs, his bow and his blue arrows. He chose the color blue for the weapon because it never looked dangerous. The Angels related blue to the sky, and how could the sky ever be dangerous to the innocent? It represented calmness and tranquility. But it was similarly a sign of inevitability. It also gave him a reputation as the Angel Hunter with blue arrows. If another Hunter ever saw one of the arrows, they would know who it once belonged to, and they would know that he had hunted in that area.
The bow was specifically made for him, designed for his exact weight and height. It was durable, could sustain a hit or two, but it was also agile, allowing him to be able to move freely without feeling like he had an extra burden along for the ride. When he used it, it felt like an extension of his body, another limb that he could use to perfection, as easily as he could put one foot in front of the other.
He swung the strap over his head and adjusted it on his right shoulder, making sure it fit as well as it did the last time he put it on. He then removed the bow from his back and placed it in an easy-access area in his suitcase. He then grabbed three arrows and put them all next to each other by the bow for later. He placed the handcuffs next to those. He then locked the metal box again and pushed it back under his black bedframe for later.
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Vegeta paced around his bedroom. It was getting dark, so he supposed that Ginyu would be hopelessly returning to beg for his forgiveness now. He snickered out loud at the image that came to his mind. Ginyu on all fours, his forehead touching the wooden floorboards, as he groveled at Vegeta's feet. Vegeta was the best, and Ginyu wasn't. It was as simple as that.
A simple bang from down the corridor gathered his attention and informed him that Ginyu was probably back at their camp. He smirked to himself and swaggered out of his room, shutting the door behind him and making his way down the thin corridor.
When he emerged in the large room at the front of the compound, he found that his suspicions had been correct. Ginyu leaned against a metal table, panting like he had just run twenty miles. His face was even more purple than usual and his exhaustion was a show of weakness that Vegeta was disgusted with.
"What is it, Ginyu? Were you chased by a deer?" Vegeta asked sarcastically. The large spiked club hanging from his belt didn't even have blood on it, so it didn't seem likely that Ginyu had been attacked by a wild animal. He seemed fit to defend himself, even against a bear or two.
A mace, in Vegeta's opinion, didn't seem like that handy of a tool when it came to hunting Angels, but he knew that everyone had their own personal style when it came to the hunt. He preferred arrows because they could take down a fleeing target, and he never missed. He knew that Burter and Jiece used swords and daggers, which was basically the same concept because of throwing knives, but he just couldn't understand why a club would be Ginyu's preferred choice of weaponry.
"I see you have no bite for your bark," Vegeta said scornfully. He then smirked and looked around. Every other Hunter was in the room with him. He locked eyes with each one of them before speaking. "Would anyone else like to take up Ginyu's side of this competition, or can I go show you all up now?" he asked mockingly.
"Those are arrogant words for just one man," a voice said, and Vegeta turned to find Recoome staring him down. "We've tried going out alone. We've tried going out in pairs. We've tried going out in trios and groups of four and five. What makes you think you're so special? Just because you were chosen to lead us, that doesn't mean that you are the best."
"Then what's the point of being in charge, Recoome? If I wasn't the best, then what would be stopping anyone else from being the leader?" There was no answer, but he heard a couple inaudible whispers. "Well? No answer?"
"So what you're saying is that there is no real reason that you're in charge?" Jiece asked, stepping forward a few paces to let everyone know that he was speaking. "You're saying that you're so confident that you're better than all of us. But you're also saying that if you aren't better than us, then there's no real reason that you should be the one to order us around. Is that it?—"
Vegeta took a quick step forward and grabbed Jiece by the neck. He tightened his muscles and lifted him so that his feet barely touched the ground. He then jerked him forward so their faces were inches apart. He could smell the fear coming off of him. "That's exactly what I'm saying, you fucking, insolent—"
"Sir, please!" Burter called tentatively, and Vegeta glanced over at the man. Jiece was Burter's hunting partner, so he probably didn't want him to get injured over the position of command. Vegeta mentally sighed. He released Jiece, who hit the floor and threw himself into a coughing fit. Jiece was the last person he had to worry about. It was Ginyu and the meddlesome Recoome that wanted to be in command enough that Vegeta didn't doubt that they considered killing him in his sleep.
"So, if you don't bring back an Angel by midday tomorrow, then you should agree that it would be best for someone else to take command while we're here." Recoome stepped forward again, probably showing off how tall he was. Vegeta just laughed. He was a giraffe, and he was top-heavy. It probably made it difficult to hunt when you weren't all that agile, and when your lopsided weight made it easy to trip and fall over. "I take that as an agreement then?" he asked, frowning as Vegeta chuckled at him.
"Yes, you idiot. I'll accept your pointless challenge." He stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. "But what do I get when I win? I can't have my position in command because I have that already… How about a week in the torture room for you and Ginyu?"
Recoome straightened his back and Ginyu stepped forward, threateningly glaring at Vegeta.
"I accept," Ginyu said, "But if you don't bring back an Angel by midday tomorrow, then not only will Recoome and I assume the leadership here, but you will spend the next week in the torture room. And after that, you will spend your time cleaning up the blood you leave behind. And you will not hunt the entire time you are here… Agreed?"
"Whatever, you scumbags," Vegeta said. "I'll leave in two minutes, but I hope you start practicing your screams, because I'm going to want to hear them when I get back."
He turned on his heel and headed down the corridor to his room. He opened the door with more force than necessary, grabbed the metal box from under his bed, and put in the six-number combination. The locked clicked and he opened the lid. He grabbed a belt and the handcuffs and fastened them to the belt before tightening it around his waist. He added cable wire and string to the belt. He grabbed three blue arrows and placed them in his quiver. He then grabbed his bow and shut the metal box, sliding it back under his bed with a grunt. He stood and faced the door for a few seconds before walking back out into the corridor and shutting his door behind him.
He passed each one of the Hunters as he made his way out of the compound and into the woods. The sun was already setting, but he had no problem hunting in the dark. Angels were easier to catch when they were asleep.
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Bulma awoke with a start. She bolted upright in her bed and found herself covered in a shimmering layer of sweat. It was hot outside and her clothes were sticking to her skin. Not even the loud fan across the room was making it much better for her.
She couldn't handle this anymore. Not after Yamcha and their date last night. How could she marry him after that? She didn't know what had come over him after they found out they were to be married a couple years ago. He had changed so much since then. All she wanted was to have the old Yamcha back. She didn't care that he was a coward. She didn't care that he wasn't as selfless as Goku. But she wanted him to be her childhood friend again. She wanted the boy that she had played soccer with. She wanted the boy who had asked if she was feeling alright when she didn't get out of bed. Now he was all grown up, and he was so different. Bulma didn't know what had happened between him and the waitress the other day, but she didn't like it one bit. He was being deceitful.
It just wasn't fair to her. Why did her parents have to get careless? Why did they let themselves be taken away by the Hunters? Why did they leave her here to fend for herself all these years? She wished that they would come back. She wanted to tell them that Yamcha wasn't the man for her, and that they should call off the wedding.
She took a side glance at her clock. It was three in the morning. The sun wouldn't come up for another couple of hours. She could run away. If she left, she wouldn't have to marry Yamcha. She could find a place among the humans and live out the rest of her life with them in peace.
But what was she thinking? What would happen if she grew her wings unexpectedly, in the middle of a crowd of people when she was shopping? What would the humans think after ten years went by, and she didn't age a day? She could always stay on the move and stay hidden, but what kind of a life was that? She would rather live here, where she had her friends and even Yamcha, who would become her new family, than outside with the humans, who would never allow her to truly live in peace.
She screamed in frustration and grief, but cupped her hands over her mouth, hoping that no one else in the apartment complex had heard her. She involuntarily gasped, and then tears immediately began pouring down her face like waterfalls. She let her head fall into her hands as she cried. Maybe she was right for Yamcha. She was the only girl in Lillanthia without a family, and Yamcha wasn't someone that every parent wanted their child to marry. Maybe the losers belonged together. Maybe that was why they were paired at birth. So someone like Chichi wouldn't have to be with someone like Yamcha. Maybe they knew what the Angels were going to grow up to be when they were born. Maybe the elders and her parents knew that she was going to grow up to be a freak. What else could she be? She was the only living Angel with blue hair. Chichi's hair was black and it shined in the light of the sun. Bulma's other friend, Launch, had the most beautiful blonde curls that bounced when she walked. But Bulma had her straight, blue hair. It was an abnormality. There was no other explanation for it.
She glanced at her clock again. Only one minute had gone by.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't marry Yamcha. She would rather die. And at least, outside, away from Lillanthia, she might be able to find someone better. She knew she was being absurd, but she couldn't help daydreaming about the perfect man for her in that moment. She couldn't help but picture a dark and mysterious silhouette opening a door for her and showing her into a brightly lit diner, pulling out her chair for her and then sitting across from her with a warm smile. She imagined him calling her name, the sweet sound of his voice. She could almost feel a caress against her jaw as she snuggled with her pillow.
And before she knew what she was doing, she was standing, grabbing a brown leather sack from her closet and shoving some clothes inside. She grabbed some food from her cabinets and shoved them inside with her clothes, and then she zippered up the bag, swung the strap over her shoulders, and headed for the door, slipping on her shoes as she reached for the doorknob.
When she was out in the hallway, she cautiously glanced right and left, but she knew that no one would be awake at this time of the night.
Bulma had always been one for following the rules, but since no Angel ever had a desire to leave Lillanthia and the safety it ensured, there had never been a law put into place that forbade crossing the Outer Wall. So, since there was no rule against leaving, Bulma didn't see anything wrong with doing so if she so desired. But the thought of being caught still kept her on her toes. She didn't want to be stopped. All she wanted was to be free of this. She wanted to be free of this sheltered life. And she wanted to be free of Yamcha and her upcoming marriage in less than ten hours. She was to be married at two in the afternoon, but now, she didn't have to.
When she got to the streets, Bulma began to run, her feet pounding against the dirt and matching the heavy pounding of her racing heart. She knew that she would have to be careful of Hunters, but there were no Hunters in towns and cities where the humans lived together. And what were the chances of an Angel Hunter standing right outside the Outer Wall, right as she left its protective boundaries, especially at three in the morning? The chances were low, and she knew that now would be as good a time as any, and she didn't want to run away if she was already married to Yamcha. This was her last chance to free herself from that path, and she was taking it.
She accidentally let out a laugh as she ran, past the buildings and off the streets and into the woods. She finally stopped laughing when she was so far into the woods that she could no longer see the dim lights of Lillanthia through the trees and underbrush.
She paused to turn around. "Goodbye Chichi, Goku. Goodbye, my friends. Goodbye, Yamcha. Goodbye, elders. And goodbye, Lillanthia," she said with finality. She turned back around and squinted into the darkness. The tree in front of her had a white circle painted on it, which marked the end of the safety of the Outer Wall. One more step forward and she wouldn't be under the magic boundary's protective shield. She would be visible to anyone who passed by.
But she squinted to look farther into the darkness and found nothing. She didn't hear anything either, so she knew she had to be alone out here. She reached up to adjust the strap of her brown leather sack and jumped a little to pull her hair out from under it.
This was it. This was the final decision. One more step forward and she would no longer be able to find her home. The magic of the Outer Wall would affect her vision if she looked at it from the view of an outsider. But that was what she was now. She had no place in Lillanthia. This was her home, and her leaving it meant that she didn't belong here anymore.
And she wouldn't have had it any other way.